Making History
by Domina Temporis
Summary: Long after their days aboard the Enterprise, Ambassador Spock and Admiral McCoy are called together to witness the beginning of a new era.
Ambassador Spock watched the admirals file into the briefing room. He kept his eyes on his work; he, of course, knew each one and could name the important events of all their careers, but he was part of the Diplomatic Corps now, not Starfleet. He had been quietly removing himself from as much Federation work as he could, the better to concentrate on his work with the Romulans. Soon enough, he would be ready to leave all this behind and go to Romulus himself.

But not yet. There were still several diplomatic projects requiring Spock's attention, and he wouldn't leave with a job unfinished. Idly, he wondered if that was why he had been requested to attend this meeting. Even with how closely Starfleet worked with the Diplomatic Corps, it was unusual for an ambassador to attend a meeting that was solely to do with Starfleet affairs. Most of the admirals and their aides kept to themselves, and Spock thought, with a twinge of melancholy, that most of them hadn't even been born before he left Starfleet. If he had ever been unsure about heading to Romulus, that doubt evaporated. He had no place here anymore; there, he could make a new place for himself there.

"I don' _need_ any help, thank you very much!" an irascible, irritated voice said loudly. Spock allowed the corners of his lips to twitch up. There was, of course, one more reason why he wouldn't leave just yet. Spock and Leonard McCoy had now been friends - friendly antagonists? - for more than twice as long as either of them had known Jim Kirk, and Spock steadfastly refused to leave the Federation while McCoy still lived. He had told Parmok that decades ago, when they first realized Spock's presence on Romulus would be beneficial to the cause Spock, though, hadn't expected McCoy to live on and on into his 140th decade. Trust McCoy to beat those particular odds.

Today, he was arguing forcefully with the medical aide who was supposed to be assisting him, and Spock decided to go rescue the poor young man, who looked terrified of doing something wrong. "I will take it from here, Ensign, thank you," he said. He hurried away, looking relieved. "You still have the same effect as you did on your staff, I see," Spock said.

"Damn fool nurses. I'm _old,_ not made of glass." McCoy looked up at him, and Spock still, after all these years, had to remind himself that humans aged so much more quickly than Vulcans. Otherwise it was still odd to see McCoy bent over, needing assistance to walk. "And where, exactly, are you taking me, Mr. Spock?"

"I assume, Doctor, to the same place I have been summoned," Spock answered. "The admirals' meeting?" He could see no other reason why they would _both_ unexpectedly be here at the same time.

"Hmph," McCoy said, starting toward the briefing room, and Spock stepped quickly forward to catch up. McCoy might not want to admit it, but a fall at his age would likely be fatal. "Don't know why they needed us both here anyway. 'S not like I've been any use to the Federation since the Khitomer Accords. Though heaven knows _you're_ still sticking your nose into everything."

"Ah, you've arrived," Admiral Curry said as they entered the room. "Let's get down to business, then." He began reading the docket for the meeting, most of which consisted of perfectly ordinary Fleet operations. Spock raised an eyebrow, confused. Nothing they listed seemed to require his presence on behalf of the Diplomatic Corps. Even less of it needed McCoy, who had been retired for decades. Although no one would know it from how much he was still "hanging around" Starfleet Headquarters.

The former doctor noticed this as well, because he sat up. "Son, what exactly am I doin' here? You don't need a retired old doctor for any of this nonsense."

"Doctor, I would hardly call the diplomatic mission to Cardassia 'nonsense,'" Spock said, before he could stop himself. It was the only thing on the docket that was even tangentially related to his work, although he hadn't handled the case himself.

"I was getting to that, gentlemen," Curry said quietly, looking between them. Spock turned his attention to the admiral, while McCoy sat back and sighed. "As I was saying," Curry continued. "The final item today is the launch of the _Enterprise-D_."

"So they finally have another one," McCoy said quietly, understanding dawning in his eyes.

"It has been twenty years since the _Enterprise-C_ was lost," Spock answered.

"Yeah, it's about time," McCoy said, now glaring at Curry, as if it was his fault.

The other admirals were looking at them, eyebrows raised, and Spock felt his cheeks grow slightly warm. "My apologies, Admirals." Next to him, McCoy grinned. Even after all these years, McCoy still brought out the worst - and by worst, he meant slightly less rigid - in Spock. The expressions on the admirals' faces mirrored the one Jim always wore watching one of their interminable arguments, and Spock resisted the urge to sigh.

Curry smiled tightly, obviously unused to Spock and McCoy's patented banter. "Yes, we have high hopes for the latest flagship. She will be crewed by the finest crew in the fleet."

"Who's captain?" McCoy asked shrewdly.

Curry sighed, "Or the _Enterprise-D_ can be the first thing we discuss."

"Son, I'm 137 years old. I don't know how much time I can sit here wasting," McCoy said seriously.

Spock raised an eyebrow. McCoy had been saying that since at least his mid-sixties. Curry, however, blanched at the idea of one of Starfleet's most celebrated admirals dropping dead during his briefing and said, "I'm sorry, Admiral McCoy, the _Enterprise-D_ , then, everyone?"

Everyone nodded, and McCoy smiled, satisfied. Curry went on, "Jean-Luc Picard will be taking command of the _Enterprise-D_. You have the full crew roster on your PADD."

"Captain Picard, the inventor of the Picard Maneuver?" McCoy asked.

"Er, yes," Curry answered.

McCoy nodded, while saying, "Well, I'm glad you picked someone I've at least _heard_ of. I don't know half the captains anymore, do you, Spock?"

"I have never met Captain Picard, but his record suggests he is the ideal choice for command of the _Enterprise_ ," Spock answered. "And you know I have always memorized the complement of captains in the field."

"Show-off," McCoy muttered.

"Admiral, Ambassador, the reason we asked you here was because we hoped one of you - or both of you, even - might attend the launch," Admiral Blackwell said quickly. "I'm sure you remember, Ambassador Spock, attending the launch of the _Enterprise-C_."

"I do," Spock said. Inwardly, he wondered at their asking McCoy, who was clearly in no condition to attend a ship launch, no matter what he said. More likely than not, it was simply to be polite. McCoy got so touchy about his age. He glanced at the date. "Unfortunately, I have a conference to attend with the Klingon ambassador that day."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that, Ambassador," Curry said. "The new crew would have liked very much for a member of your crew to be there."

"Now, hold on a damn minute," McCoy said. "He may not be able to go, but I haven't said no yet. Been a long time since I was on a ship. 'Specially one with that name. I'll be there."

"Oh, uh, certainly, sir," Curry said, flustered. He obviously hadn't expected McCoy to agree, let alone volunteer. "We'll make the arrangements immediately. The crew will be honored."

"I'm sure they will," McCoy said. "You tell 'em I want a shuttlecraft. I've gone through too many of those transporters in my day. You got that?"

"Absolutely, sir," Curry said, making a note of it.

"And if that's it, I think I'll go," McCoy said, getting up. "Don't think you'll need me here, anymore, do you?" He shuffled toward the door, and as he left, Spock looked at Curry.

"Is there anything else you need me for, Admiral?"

"No, that was it, Ambassador," Curry answered. "May I say, sir, it was an honor?"

Spock nodded before hurrying out after McCoy, reflecting that it was the first meeting he'd left early since Kirk had command of the original _Enterprise._ McCoy was assuredly a bad influence. He caught up with the doctor quickly. "Doctor!"

"Hmm, oh, it's you," McCoy said. "Got bored too, did you?" He started toward Starfleet's cafeteria. "You want some coffee? Or that swill they let me have that they call coffee?"

"Why did you volunteer?" Spock blurted out, following McCoy to the cafeteria. He kept his pace slow, and noticed McCoy took a hold of his elbow to steady himself. "No one would have insisted on the ceremony if you felt you could not attend."

"Spock, I'm tellin' you, if this is something about my health," McCoy said before sighing. "I don't know, I guess I just felt...one of us had to be there." They sat down at a free table, and McCoy's eyes strayed toward the empty third chair. Spock knew what he meant without having to ask. That empty space followed them, not all the time, but it would appear when they were lost in memories. Like today.

Spock nodded slowly. "Jim would be pleased to know the ship has gone on."

"And you know he'd be up there himself," McCoy said. "That's why I'm goin'. Someone's gotta do it." No one ever mentioned April's crew anymore, or Pike's. The _Enterprise_ was Jim Kirk's, like it was meant to be.

"Those who forget history are doomed to repeat it," Spock said, after a moment.

"Now, hang on a minute, Mr. Spock," McCoy said, bristling. "I'm not history yet, so you just watch what you're saying."

"I believe the Fleet museum may disagree with you, Doctor," Spock answered with a glint of humor returning to his eyes. They both knew that several pieces of medical equipment that McCoy had modified himself were held by the museum, and McCoy shot Spock a dirty look before starting to laugh.

The moment was only made better by an anxious first-year cadet recognizing them and shyly asking for an autograph. McCoy scowled good-naturedly as Spock raised an eyebrow to say "I told you so."

"Not another word, Mr. Spock," McCoy said, pointing his spoon in Spock's direction.

"In that case, enjoy the launch, Doctor," Spock answered. "By all accounts, the ship is a significant leap forward in design."

"Oh, Spock, I don't care about that," McCoy said. "It's what she _feels_ like."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "You have never expressed any great liking for starships, in spite of serving on one for most of your career. It is highly illogical."

"Spock, I've been listening to you talk about logic for damn near a century. Can't you just agree the ship's got to _feel_ like the _Enterprise_?" McCoy asked exasperatedly.

"A ship is only as good as her captain," Spock answered automatically. "However, Captain Picard is an admirable choice. There is every chance this _Enterprise_ will join her predecessors as an extraordinarily successful addition to the Fleet."

"Well, I think _somewhere_ in there was approval," McCoy said as they headed out. "They've got a hell of a lot to live up to, you know. Don't want to scare them, now do we?"

"I hardly see that you could do anything else," Spock answered dryly, and McCoy glared at him before starting to laugh. And except for the empty space, in between them and slightly to the front, it was just like old times.


End file.
